


Family Bonding

by scribefindegil, thesnadger



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Family Bonding, Fluff, Ford is the voice of reason so you know things are wacky, Fusion, Gen, LITERALLY, Post-Finale, SO MUCH FLUFF, like a pile of down comforters with baby seals on top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:03:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribefindegil/pseuds/scribefindegil, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesnadger/pseuds/thesnadger
Summary: Ford wants to test his new teleporter and he needs Stan to be his guinea pig . . . ah, "assistant." Mabel is bored and plotting to tackle-hug her relatives; who cares about that boring nerd stuff Grunkle Ford was going on about?What could possibly go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by agent-jaselin's design of a Stan and Mabel fusion!

“Just think of the scientific applications, Stanley!” 

“Every time you say that, it takes five months off my life.”

Stan sat on the edge of the sofa, up in what used to be Soos’s break room, looking skeptically at the plans Ford had sketched out on the chalkboard. There were a number of equations he didn’t bother trying to puzzle out, a handful of notes and explanations, and a drawing of himself, smiling and stepping through what he assumed was supposed to represent a hole in space or time or spacetime or something like that. It wasn’t filling him with confidence.

“I dunno, something about this doesn’t feel right. Like, everything about it.” Stan said. “Why do we even need a teleporter on the Stan O’War?”

“For safety reasons, obviously!” Ford explained. “Just think of all the potential dangers out at sea. With this, if we ever find ourselves caught in a whirlpool or trapped in a storm we can’t sail our way out of, we don’t need to worry about going down with the ship. We can just step through a carefully marked doorway and end up here in the Mystery Shack, with no harm done at all!”

“Yeah, well, that’s all right on paper, but why do I have to be the guinea pig for it?” Stan asked.

“Well of course you won’t be the first one to test it,” Ford said. “I’ve already run a ficus plant through it, as well as three squirrels and a gnome!”

He gestured to a wall-eyed bearded little man who was standing on an end table on the other side of the room. 

“Schmebulock….”  he said, his eyes gazing out into the distance, bearing the weight of horrors that mankind was never meant to understand.

“See? He’s fine!” Ford said cheerily.

“How can you tell?” Stan asked.

“And emergency teleportation just scratches the surface of all this can do!” Ford continued, as if he hadn’t heard the question. “Once I’ve managed to extend its reach beyond the few feet it’s currently confined to, we can use it for all manner of things! Trips to the store, ventures out on land when we’ve been at sea too long...you could get a snack from the kitchen without leaving the TV room!”

“Well, I do hate getting up to do things…” Stan said thoughtfully. 

“I’d go through it myself, but I need to monitor the output in real time.” Ford gestured to the beeping electronic panel resting on the other end of the couch. “There’s too much quantum uncertainty for me to trust a recording.”

“Eh, what the heck. You talked me into it.” Stan said. “But if I come out the other side inside-out, you’re gonna have to explain it to Soos.”

“Agreed!” Ford grinned, eagerly taking Stan’s hand and pulling him over to the other side of the room. “All right. Stand right here, in front of this line I’ve marked off.” He pointed to a strip of masking tape on the floor. “The only actual machinery is the control panel. Everything else exists in a state of flux…”

“I am already regretting this decision.”

“When I say to, step across the line of tape. Just walk and breathe normally, if everything goes well you should come out right there.” he pointed to another line of tape, just a few feet away.

Stan shifted uncomfortably. “And if everything doesn’t go so well?”

“Whoop, no time for questions, Stanley. I have to concentrate.” Ford looked down at the panel on his lap, pretending to press buttons and pointedly avoiding looking up at Stan.

Hmph. If he was going to be that way, that was fine. Stan looked at the line of tape on the ground. He was definitely going to pretend to be turning inside out when he came out the other side. That’d serve Ford right. He mentally prepared his sickest, most gurgly-sounding cough and waited for the signal.

*

Like the mighty hunters of the jungle, Mabel slunk through the grass. Well, okay, she was way cuter than any mighty hunter of the jungle, and they  _ probably _ didn’t leave trails of glitter and cookie crumbs behind them. But she was definitely just as stealthy.

Yeah. Mabel Pines, master of stealth.

She’d already made her way around most of the house, and was starting to get disappointed. Where was everyone? They couldn’t all just vanish and let her go un-hugged, especially since she’d made her special Extra Sugar Cookies to share. They had four different kinds of sugar! Dipper was upstairs reading and hadn’t responded when she tried to poke him with the Fun Wand (the Fun Stick was so last summer, so she’d had to upgrade). Soos and Melody were being all businessy. And Grunkle Ford had dragged Grunkle Stan off hours ago for some silly science reason.

She’d given them long enough. The had the whole rest of the year to be Sciencing at things. This was summer. Which meant Mabel time. Which meant hugs, and if they weren’t going to come get them themselves, she’d have to take matters into her own arms. 

She heard the murmur of voices and crept below the window of Soos’ old break room. Whatever is was they were saying, it sounded boring. Just the type of thing that deserved some livening up.

Moving slowly, she peered above the windowsill. Grunkle Ford was sitting in the middle of the room, poking at some science thing in his lap. Grunkle Stan was standing in the corner nearest to her, looking grumpy.

Well. It looked like she’d found someone who needed cheering up! She heard him say something about regretting a decision. Probably to decision to hole up with Ford doing boring nerd stuff when he could have been hanging out with her! Not that she didn’t enjoy some of the nerd stuff, especially when it involved Grunkle Ford giving them all weapons! She wondered if she could smuggle that rainbow cannon back home or if she’d have to leave it behind with Candy and Grenda.

There was some more grumbling that she didn’t really pay attention to. Instead, she channelled all her laser focus into unlatching the window silently, the way Grunkle Stan had taught her. All those catburglaring tricks sure came in handy. She stuck her tongue out, eyes fixed on the latch.

It opened with a soft click. Mabel resisted the urge to whoop in triumph. That was usually her problem when it came to catburglaring. She did allow herself a wide grin and a whispered, “Mabel Pines, you are the greatest great-niece ever.”

Her Grunkles kept talking as she slowly pushed the window open. Almost there . . . 

She took another quick peek inside. If she moved over to the right, Grunkle Ford wouldn’t be able to see her because Grunkle Stan was in the way. That way, she could surprise both of them!

Moving as quietly as she could, Mabel pulled herself up and crouched on the windowsill, tensing her body for the spring.

“All right, Stanley,” said Ford. “Now!”

He hadn’t been talking to her, but that was just the encouragement she needed.

“HUG ATTACK!” Mabel yelled at the top of her voice, launching herself at Grunkle Stan with her arms spread wide and a huge grin on her face. She slammed into his shoulder just as he took a step forward, and both of them began to topple to the floor. She was about to raise one arm and crow at her awesome hug powers, but suddenly the air around them went . . . weirdly sparkly. She had some glitter in her pocket, but not  _ that _ much. Then the whole room flickered. 

They tumbled forward, and--

*

There was a flash of light and a shock wave spread through the room. Ford hadn’t even had the time to register the fact that he was hearing Mabel’s voice before a pastel-colored projectile caught Stan in the upper back and propelled him forward over the line, both of them vanishing into thin air. 

Panicked, Ford stood, still clutching the control panel in his hands and staring down at the screen as the readings went haywire, lights flashing, wires sparking, smoke coming from the side of the machine. The metal casing became too hot for Ford to handle and he dropped it with a cry, and at that moment a figure stumbled out on the other side of the room, falling forward onto the floor.

His first reaction was relief as he caught a flash of long, brown hair--for a moment it looked as if they’d both come through unharmed, Mabel holding onto Stan’s back. But then the figure straightened up, and he saw their face.

It wasn’t his brother. It wasn’t Mabel either. It was . . . oh no.

He knew, theoretically, that something like this could happen. He knew, theoretically, that a lot of things could happen, but that didn’t mean he’d actually ever expected to see--

The figure in front of him looked down at themself, then up at him, and then the face--round, but with Stan’s strong jaw--split into the widest grin that Ford had ever seen.

“Oh my gosh!” it--they?--said. “Did we hug so hard that we got squished into one person? That’s AWESOME!”

“Um,” said Ford. “Something . . . I mean, the transporter is what caused your, ah, predicament, but the . . . um, somewhat aggressive physical contact at the point of transportation appears to have . . .” He gave up. “Yes. That’s exactly what happened. But don’t panic--”

“I won’t!” the figure said, grinning hugely.

“It shouldn’t take long to reverse--”

“Are you kidding!? This is the coolest thing that’s ever happened to me!” They paused to consider. “Okay, this is the only thing that’s ever happened to  _ me _ , but it’s the coolest thing that’s ever happened to  _ us _ ! Come on, bro--Gru--nerd brain, why you gotta talk about reversing this! There’s nothing to fix!”

“Is everything okay?” Dipper’s voice came from the hall. “I heard yelling and a crashing noise, did--” He stopped in the doorway when he saw the figure in front of him. “...Uh. Who are you?”

The figure turned at the voice. Ford saw their eyes light up at Dipper’s appearance, and they charged at the boy, closing the distance between the two of them, then picking him up and spinning him around. Dipper made a squawk of protest at the sudden intrusion of his personal space that was quickly cut off as they crushed him in an enormous hug.

“I’m  _ AWESOME! _ ” the figure crowed. They set Dipper down with a wild laugh and ran out into the hall.

Dipper got to his feet, perplexed, with a glance out at the doorway. He turned to Ford. “Uh...Great Uncle Ford...do I have  _ another _ long lost relative? I mean--” he added hastily, as if afraid of offending him. “I’m not complaining or anything, I just want to know.”

Ford sighed. “Not...exactly.”

He hurried past Dipper and ran out into the hall, after...after whoever it was he was chasing. He caught up with them downstairs, in the museum part of the house where they were picking up attractions and examining them eagerly.

“Man....I never really noticed how beautiful everything in here is! Or how easy to reach most of these things are…” they pulled a three-headed duck-creature off the wall--Ford couldn’t help noticing that one of the duck’s heads was obviously of the rubber bathtub variety--and grinned at it. “Hey, this one is new! Did Soos make it? I should really teach him saddle stitch, he’d love it!”

Ford stared, still trying to process what he was seeing. They were just barely taller than Stan was, and more or less his size. The law of conservation of mass suggested that the bulk of Mabel’s body had to have gone  _ some _ where. There had been a bright flash when they combined, which could mean that it had been converted into energy. But the law of generation of magic dictated that anything that causes a bright flash when it came into being would be suffused with supernatural energies. And the grand theory of universal ridiculousness only supported that.

That might explain the euphoria they were apparently experiencing? He considered the possibility that Mabel’s personality was overtaking Stan’s, at least on the surface. That would explain all the. . .enthusiasm they had.

“Mabel. . . .” Ford began.

“I’m obviously not Mabel, Ford.” they said. “Mabel doesn’t have crow’s feet, or these safecracker’s fingers.” They held up a hand with a flourish. “And Stan doesn’t have an encyclopedic knowledge of all the love triangles in Dream Boy High 2: Let’s Get Dreamier. I guess it’s a lucky thing the braces didn’t make it through the squishing process, amiright? Self high-five!” They slapped their left hand with their right.

“So you’re…”

“Two great tastes that taste great together!” They said, striking a pose with their arms out.

Ford took a deep breath. “All right, listen . . . I don’t know what to call you--”

“Ooooh, you’re right!” They put down the duck monster and spun into the center of the gift shop, stroking their chin thoughtfully. “I need a name. One that’s as great as I am!”

“No,” said Ford firmly. “What you need is to come with me so we can figure out exactly how this happened and what I need to do to make it un-happen!”

They ignored him, spinning in place as they gazed around them with unabashed wonder.

“You know, these glasses actually work now!” they said. “My eyes must be way better than Stan’s were. I can see everything! Look!” They grabbed a handful of keychains off the shelf and stared at them as if they were made of gold. 

“Look at all the tiny writing! I had no idea anyone could actually read these disclaimers! Better tell Soos to decrease the font size.”

“I--wait,” said Ford. “Stanley, how bad  _ is  _  your eyesight?”

“I told you, I’m not Stanley!” said the figure. Before Ford could point out that yes, he  _ knew _ that, that was by nature of being their problem, they continued, “I’m . . . Stabel? No, no, that’s boring, forget that. Definitely not Stabel. I’m. . . Squished-Together Pines! No, too much of a mouthful . . .”

They spun around on their heels and stood with their hands on their hips. “Mabley! That’s good, that’s good. Yes, I’m Mabley, pleasure to meet you!” 

They held out a hand for Ford to shake. Not sure what else to do, Ford reached to shake it only to have it pulled away from him. 

“Ha! Too slow, dork!” Mabley laughed. “Ah, just kidding. Hugs!” 

They wrapped an arm around Ford’s neck and pulled him into something that was a cross between a hug and a headlock, only releasing him when he made a strangled noise.

“Stop that!” Ford said, pulling back. “Look...you’ve had your fun but this is a serious matter. You can’t stay, ah, squished together like this in the long term. Come back upstairs with me and I’ll see what I can do about getting the two of you back to normal.”

“Uh huh.” Mabley propped their head in one hand, in an exaggerated pose of thoughtfulness. “Okay, okay. You got me, you can fix me up if you want.”

“ _ Thank _ you.” Ford sighed, grateful that they were seeing reason.

“But you’ll have to  _ catch _ me first!” They shouted, pulling something out from behind their back and throwing it onto the floor. Ford coughed and covered his eyes as the explosion of smoke and glitter spread throughout the room-- _ where had they gotten--how??-- _ and by the time the cloud had dissipated, they were gone.

*

Mabley skipped along the road, singing to themself as they looked around at just how  _ green _ the trees were and how  _ bright _ the sun was. 

“Oh, my name is Mabley! It . . . . doesn’t actually rhyme with anything. But it’s still the best! Doodly-doo!”

A car drove by and they waved at it enthusiastically. The driver looked a little nervous, but waved back.

“Woah . . .” Mabley said to themself. “That’s right, I can  _ drive _ .” Maybe they should have taken the car into town instead! But then they wouldn’t get to move around like this. They did a little pirouette to prove the point. None of their joints hurt at all and their strides were so  _ long _ . Everything about them felt just . . . just amazing!

Their stomach rumbled.

Okay, maybe almost everything. 

They weren’t really sure how the magic hug-squish had worked. Personally, they didn’t really care, it was just that old nerd Ford who was so worked up about it. He really needed to learn to relax. So much stress wasn’t good for him. Whatever had happened, they realized, neither Stan or Mabel had eaten much that morning and now they were super hungry. It was time to look for some sustenance.

Showing perfect timing--and why wouldn’t it be perfect? Everything around them should be perfect--they heard the tinkling bells of an ice cream truck approaching. Excellent. They were definitely hungry for an icy pop. And an ice cream sandwich. Two ice cream sandwiches, and a dreamsicle, and a strawberry shortcake bar. Or five. 

Mabely watched as the truck rolled to a stop and a gaggle of kids ran up to order from it. There was one straggler who hung back from the others and watched with envy while the rest of the children exchanged sweaty fistfuls of change for sugar.

“What’s the matter, pipsqueak?” Mabely asked the sad little boy who was hanging back. “You look like your dog just left you for another owner.”

“Mom won’t give me money for ice cream.” the boy replied. “She says I’m lactose intolerant.”

“Your mom sounds like a real spoilsport.” Mabely replied. They dug in their pocket until their fingers closed on a few bills. Probably enough. “Tell you what. I’ll buy you an ice cream if you do one little favor for me.”

The kid asked what Mabley wanted them to do. They told him, and he nodded, snatching the bills from their hand and running off. Mabley shuffled oh-so-stealthly into the line of trees beside the road while the kid waved his money at the ice cream man. 

“Hey! I wanna buy rocket pop!” he shouted from a few yards away.

“Well come on over and get one, then!” The ice cream man called back. “This isn’t a delivery service.”

“I can’t.” The kid said, pointing to his right arm which was hooked into a hole in a nearby tree. “I’m stuck! Please, I’ve got money, just bring it over to me!”

“Give the kid his ice cream!” Mabely said, cupping their hands and trying to throw their voice. “It’s bad enough he’s stuck in a tree, you’re not gonna make him starve too, are you?”

“All right, all right. Give me a second.” The ice cream man vanished from the window in the truck and came out the back, locking it behind him and carrying a rocket pop in one hand.

It took the ice cream man about a minute and a half to reach the kid and give him the popsicle. It took Mabley thirty seconds to get in the truck, another fifty to hotwire it, and ten to drive off while waving their arm out the window.

“See ya, suckers!” They shouted, laughing at the sight of the man running after them in the rear view mirror.

Hmm. He looked pretty upset. Was it possible that it had been wrong of them to steal this ice cream truck? They would definitely have to sit and have a long think about it. Over a nutty bar. No, a dozen nutty bars. They deserved it, after all.

*

“So,” said Dipper. “Do you have any idea where we should be looking?”

Ford turned the car onto Main Street and shrugged helplessly. “I really don’t know. There are so many things a . . . a squish of my brother and your sister could get up to. Back at the house they seemed to have nearly boundless energy; I don’t know if that’s a permanent byproduct of what happened or just a side effect of their combined personalities, but . . .”

“Either way it’s terrifying,” said Dipper. “I know.” 

He thought back to some of the places Mabel had managed to end up  _ before _ she’d somehow combined bodies with a professional con-man and shook his head. Sure, the dragon hatchling that had imprinted on her hadn’t been her fault, exactly, but his hair was still short from where the mother dragon had scorched them on their way out of its lair. Then there was the time Grenda had brought the characters from her mom’s age-inappropriate romance novels to life and they’d had to fight through the darkest part of the forest to rescue Mabel from some disconcertingly muscular werewolves who actually just wanted to talk about their feelings and have her brush their hair. And then--

Okay, the point was, Mabel all by herself could get into all manner of sticky situations. A Mabel and Grunkle Stan . . . what had Ford called it? A squish? . . . could probably find even more ways to plunge the town into chaos.

He couldn’t understand why they’d been so . . . happy. He remembered the fiasco with the body-switching carpet and how traumatized Mabel had been to be stuck in his body, which really wasn’t that different from her usual one. Why wasn’t she just as freaked out about this? She and Grunkle Stan were one person now! Dipper knew Mabel loved their Grunkle. So did he. But Stan was also weird and old and gross and the idea of having to share a body with him sounded terrifying! Even if they seemed happy now, who knew when that might change? Dipper would feel a lot better once they’d caught up to them.

“We’re lucky the glitter trail gave us a direction to head in…” Ford said. “But that ran out ages ago. . .to be honest, at this point I’m not sure what to look for.”

“How about that?” Dipper pointed to the left, where the red and blue flash of police sirens was visible. “I mean, you’ve got to admit that’s  _ probably  _ about them.”

“You’re right! Hold on…” Ford turned the corner and pulled the car to a halt half a block away from the scene. As they approached, they heard a man in an ice cream truck driver’s suit reporting something to those two police officers who seemed to handle everything in Gravity Falls. 

“...And when I went back to talk to the kid, he was gone! If I lose any more ice cream trucks my boss is going to kill me!”

“Uh huh.” Officer Blubbs took down some notes, half-interested. “Could you describe the individual you saw driving off with it?”

“I thought there was gonna be actual ice cream.” Deputy Durland said, his arms folded, his face turned down into a pouty expression. “If there’s no ice cream why are we even here?”

“...Were they wearing a dark red sweater?” Dipper asked, hurrying up to where they were standing. “With a gold design on it?”

“Yes!” the ice cream man said. “Yes, exactly! You’ve seen them too?”

“We have...from a certain point of view you could say that they’re related to us. I’m . . . sorry about them.” Ford said. “Did you see where they were headed, after they stole your truck?”

“...Up that way, towards the mountains.” The ice cream man said.

“Thank you, come on Dipper.” Ford said, heading back to the car.

“Hey!” the ice cream man replied. “You can’t just go! What about my truck? Who’s going to be responsible for that?”

“He said he was  _ sorry. _ ” Officer Blubs said reproachfully. “I think he’s learned his lesson.” He looked at Ford and Dipper with a smile and a wink. “You town heroes take care of yourselves, now.”

“Bring back ice cream!” Durland added, waving as they climbed back into the car and headed up the road.

As Ford drove, Dipper scanned the road ahead of them. An ice cream truck should be pretty hard to miss, but he wasn’t seeing anything.

Then they rounded the corner and he heard Ford gasp. The guard rail ahead of them was missing, the edges of the remaining section warped and twisted, as if . . . as if someone had driven through them. Someone in a larger vehicle than a car.

“They’ll--they’ll be all right, won’t they?” Dipper asked. “I--I mean, they had . . . magic and stuff, you said!”

Ford didn’t say anything as he skidded the car to a stop and threw open the door. Dipper opened his own door, terrified of what he might see.

But as soon as he stepped outside, he could hear singing.

It was very enthusiastic and didn’t seem to be in any particular key, and was clashing pretty terribly with the ice-cream truck jingle that was also playing, but Dipper thought it might be the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

He and Ford hurried over to the broken guard rail. As they approached, the singing got louder, and slowly the stolen truck came into view.

Well. Mabel had never managed to get a vehicle into a tree before. He couldn’t speak for Stan. 

The truck was lodged quite snugly in the upper branches of a spruce tree. Sitting on the roof, surrounded by ice cream wrappers and singing contentedly, was Mabley. They saw him and Ford watching and gave them a jaunty little wave.

“Hey there, dork-faces!” they called. “You want some of this? It’s delicious! The freezer kinda broke in the crash, so the ice cream sandwiches are a little mushy, but the popsicles are still pretty solid!” 

They tossed a slightly drippy package of double-stick popsicles at Dipper, who caught it in both hands.

Ford put his hands on his hips. “All right! You’ve caused quite enough trouble already, so why don’t you get over here so we can all go home and clean up this mess.”

“Hmm . . .” said Mabley, stroking their chin thoughtfully. “Nope!” With surprisingly good aim, they lobbed an ice cream sandwich directly at Ford. It landed on his head with a “plop.”

“Now who’s the mess, huh?” said Mabley. They did a cocky little victory dance on the roof of the truck, swinging their hips and laughing. “Hey-ooo! Mabley for the win!”

Dipper turned to Ford, who was trying to pick bits of melted ice cream sandwich out of his hair. “This,” he said. “Is going to be a challenge. . .maybe we should try to get over there. It’s not like they have anyplace to go, they’re stuck in a tree.”

Ford, who seemed too angry to listen at this point, wiped an ice-creamy hand on the side of his coat and glared at Mabley’s dancing figure. 

“Mabley Pines!” Ford yelled. “You get over here this instant!”

They kept dancing, but turned so that they were facing away from the road and wiggled their bottom in Ford’s direction. He flushed.

“I cannot  _ believe _ \--”

“Anyway, you’re wrong.” Mabley continued. “I haven’t caused  _ nearly _ enough trouble already. So, if you nerds will excuse me--” They pulled a grappling hook out from the inside of their coat and took aim at a rocky overhang.

“No, wait!” Dipper shouted, as the rope extended and Mabley leaped off the edge of the truck, swinging forwards.

“Don’t!” Ford called. “Stop, please!”

“Sorry, I  _ can’t  _ be stopped!” Mabely laughed. “Although I did just eat a whole ton of ice cream. Come to think of it, that might not have been as super amazing an idea as I thought it was. Ough.” They reached a hand down to their stomach, unmindful of the fact that they were still swinging back and forth from the end of the grappling hook. “That sugar crash is hitting pretty hard...ugh...feeling sleepy….”

It looked like they were starting to sag. Dipper ran as close to the edge as he dared get...they weren’t swinging near enough for him to grab at them, but he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted. “Hang on, uh, Mabley! Just don’t lose your grip, okay? We’ll come and get you!”

“Ahh, don’t worry your sweaty little head, Dipper.” Mabley smiled up at him. “I’m not gonna fall...just gonna...take a little...nap...here.”

Their head fell to their chest, and Dipper heard snoring sounds. Dipper held his breath. . . amazingly, they seemed to still be maintaining their grip on the grappling hook. He gave a sigh of relief and looked up at Ford.

“Um...now what?” Dipper asked.

Ford picked the last piece of ice cream sandwich out of his hair and gave an irritated sigh. “I’ll go get the infinitely extendable ladder.”


	2. Chapter 2

Ford stared at the readings in front of him and sighed. At least Mabley was biologically stable, which was the first thing he’d been worried about. This wasn’t an intended use of the transporter, and he’d been afraid that they might have ended up missing some semi-vital organ or with two hearts or something.

The subject of his research was still unconscious in the next room, having been tied gently but thoroughly to a chair so that they couldn’t run off. Again. It had taken Ford and Dipper quite a while to get the gently snoring individual off the cliff face, into the car, and back to the Shack. Ford’s back twinged sympathetically at the memory. They were heavier than they looked.

Glad as he was that there was no immediate danger, he would be extremely happy to have his brother and niece back to normal, where they would cause a somewhat more usual amount of chaos. Combining them seemed to have increased their energy and troublemaking tendencies by an almost exponential level. 

He was distracted as the display in front of him beeped and then, line by line, the readings began to blink out.

“Stop that!” he yelled, smacking the panel in case that did any good. It didn’t.

The last line of text blinked out. Perhaps a loose connection. If anything had happened to Mabley, the machine should have told him that. Instead, it was like it was no longer connected to them at--

“Boop!”

Ah.

Ford turned around. Of course the squish had managed to maintain Stan’s skill at escaping. It was just Ford’s luck. Why couldn’t it have . . . well, neither of them had any respect for rules or tendency to co-operate to begin with, but why couldn’t they have developed one?

“Look,” Ford said, snatching their hands out of the air as they attempted to boop his nose, “We need to talk. Don’t run away this time.”

“Nah, I’m bored with that.” Mabley said. “So whatcha workin’ on? A machine that measures your nerdiness levels in kilodorks per second? Just kidding, I know what it is. Hugs!”

Ford winced as he was pulled into a crushingly tight embrace for the second time that day. When he was able to get a lungful of air again he sighed, teeth gritted. “I wish you would take this seriously.”

“Hugs are serious business.” Mabley replied, not letting go.

“I mean it,” Ford squirmed his way free of Mabley’s arms. “Dipper and Mabel’s parents will be arriving in two weeks. Do  _ you _ want to try explaining to them that their daughter is currently  _ half _ of you?”

“Relax. I mean, you know them. They can rationalize anything. They still think you spent the last thirty years in Tibet.”

“...But it’s not just them.” A voice came from near the elevator at the other end of the room. Ford turned to see Dipper stepping out.

Mabley winced a little and turned. “Hey...Dipper...didn’t see ya over there….”

“School’s going to be starting soon...Mabel needs to get back. And Grunkle Stan and Ford need to go back to what they’ve been doing. You can’t stay like this forever.”

“Well...obviously. Of course.” Mabley said. “Who’s saying I should stay like this forever? Not me, that’s for sure. I’m just thinking, you know, no need to get all worked up about it.” They turned back towards Ford. “Look, I’m sorry if I made you worry. That was less than totally awesome of me. But it’s not like this is the weirdest thing any of us have ever encountered. It’s not even in the top ten.”

Ford rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I suppose not. But we still have to deal with it quickly. You’re stable now, but there’s no telling what the future might hold.”

“What, am I gonna start turning into a fly-monster like in that Vincent Price movie from when you and Stan were kids? Or the other one with Jeff Goldblum back when he was still kinda hunky?” Mabely asked.

“No, no. I mean, there was always a twenty percent chance of that, but no.” Ford said.

“Wait, what?” Dipper asked.

“. . . Just  _ twenty _ percent.” Ford assured him. “I’m not reckless.”

“What percentage counts as reckless to you?” Dipper asked.

“Anyway, there’s just too many unknowns here. The sooner we can get you back to normal, the better.”

“Yeah,” said Mabley. “Normal. I guess.”

“I mean . . .” Dipper waved his hands. “I know there was the exciting-new-thing rush, and then the sugar rush, but isn’t this . . . weird . . . to you?”

Mabley grinned at him. “Nope! It’s great!”

“But . . .” Dipper looked across at Ford for backup, but his uncle just shrugged. “Look, you’re a thirteen-year-old girl  _ and _ a . . . however old you two are man . . . at the same time? It just seems like it would be really uncomfortable. I mean, it makes me uncomfortable just thinking about it . . .”

“Awww,” said Mabley, “Don’t be uncomfy, egghead! How about a hug?”

Before Dipper could protest, they had lifted him up off the floor in a tight, enthusiastic embrace. He could kind of breathe this time, which was an improvement.

“You can’t just solve all your problems with hugs!” Ford protested.

“Oh really?” Mabley grinned over the top of Dipper’s slightly squashed head. “Is that a challenge? You know, you really look like someone who could use some more hugging--”

“No! No, we are not having any more hugs right now!” said Ford. “We are having a discussion about how to get the two of you back to--well, how to get the two of you back, period, I suppose.”

Mabley pouted at him. Oh no, they had Mabel’s sad-puppy face. Ford tried in vain to resist its power as Mabley put a hand on his shoulder. 

“...It isn’t uncomfortable, because we love each other.” Mabley said, smiling. “Mabel loves Stan and Stan loves Mabel so, so much. That’s why I love being me. That’s why I’m happy. . .because I always feel that love.”

Ford found himself softening at that. It was hard to be too irritated after being reminded that he was speaking not just to his brother and his niece, but to the living embodiment of their relationship. With that in mind, it was no wonder they’d gotten carried away. As Ford looked back at them, their expression slowly changed, turning nervous. 

“What...what’s everyone looking at me for?” They smiled awkwardly, dropping Dipper to the floor. “Do I have something on my face? You know, I’m pretty sure I heard Waddles calling me from upstairs, I’d better go check on him.”

Visibly embarrassed, they hurried to the elevator and walked in, shutting the door behind them.

“Wow.” Dipper said, as Ford reached down and offered him a hand up. “That was...a thing that happened.”

“It certainly was.” Ford said. “Dipper. . .I’m going to need your help with something.”

“Really? I mean, yes! I mean, yeah, of course.” Dipper looked up at him eagerly. “With what?”

“Will you keep an eye on them while I do what I can to get things back to normal? They need the calm, stabilizing presence of a thirteen year old boy.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” Dipper said. “You can count on me. I mean, I lived with Stan and Mabel for like, a whole summer before you got here. How much worse can Mabley be?”

*

_ August 22, 2013  _

_ I don’t know how much longer I can take this. I think my ribs are permanently bruised from all the hugs I’ve gotten, and they keep finding more stashes of sugar! Mabel must have hidden them away like a squirrel or something! Every time I think I’ve gotten the last of it, they pop up with another jar of sprinkles. Also, their Pun Per Sentence rate is reaching critical levels. I’ve started preemptively groaning every time they open their mouth to save time. _

_ Having Mabley for a roommate has been...well, it’s been interesting. Despite the permanent rib damage and the impromptu 2 am karaoke sessions, it’s not actually that bad most of the time. With Ford busy in the basement working on fixing the teleporter so that it can take people apart instead of just squishing them together, it’s mostly been just the two...er, three...or two...of us upstairs.  _

_ Mabley’s certainly been enjoying themself. They’ve been taking themself out everywhere, and since I promised Great Uncle Ford that I’d keep an eye on them, guess who keeps getting dragged along for the ride? I’ll admit the carnival was pretty cool. Especially after Mabley showed me how to beat the rigged games, by throwing glitter in the carnie’s face and running off with the prizes. I was less enthusiastic about the discoteque. I always get embarrassed and sweaty and kind of sick when someone tries to get me to dance in public. But with Mabley on the dance floor, you really run no risk of being the most embarrassing person there. They were like a big, paisley-clad distraction, and by the end I was honestly having...fun? _

_ Soos had the chance to meet Mabley when he came home the first night. I tried explaining the situation to him so that he wouldn’t be too shocked when he saw them, but I really didn’t need to bother. He just waved at them and said “Hey dude...or dudes? I don’t know what’s grammatically correct here.”  _ He _ seems to be immune to the rib-crushing power of Mabley’s hugs; he can’t get enough of them. Must be the padding. _

_ I’ve been doing my best to keep Candy and Grenda away from them. It . . . hasn’t been very successful. If you get them all together they’re really good at breaking things. Like laws. And property. Anyway, I think we managed to clean most of it up and run away from the rest. At least once Mabley gets un-squished they won’t match those police sketches anymore, so there’s that to look forward to. _

_ That and . . . I’m really starting to miss Mabel. Stan too. I hope we can get this fixed soon. _

Dipper looked up from his journal and glanced across the room at Mabely. They were sitting contentedly on the couch flipping through one of Mabel’s old scrapbooks. Waddles was curled up at their feet, slipping in and out of sleep. Every now and then they’d chuckle or smirk at one of the pictures.

“Hey Dipper...did we ever find the other half of that cursed amulet?” they asked.

“Oh yeah...I completely forgot about that.” Dipper said. “Guess it’s still somewhere in that nursery school. Yikes.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden crashing noise from the other room, followed by the muffled sound of Ford talking in what Dipper could only assume was some alien language. A moment later he emerged, looking disheveled. Well, more disheveled than usual.

“Have either of you seen a Quantum Spatial Inhibitor anywhere around here?” he asked. “It’s...it’s a curved metal tube with flanges on either end and a core of molten rock held in a miniature stasis field.”

“Sorry...I haven’t.” Dipper said. “Did you check the fridge? Sometimes when I lose things they wind up in the fridge for some reason.”

“Geez, you look terrible.” Mabley said. “You should take a load off and relax for a while. We’ve got a ping pong table now! Wanna play a game and see if two heads are actually better than one?”

“How did we get a--you know what, never mind. I can’t right now. . .this should have been resolved days ago! It’s like everything that could go wrong has been! And every time the Cronenberg Inhibitor Field nearly gets stabilized, something breaks or goes missing! It’s almost like something’s intentionally undoing all my progress!”

“What!?” said Mabley. “That’s ridiculous! Who--uh,  _ what _ would ever do a thing like that? You’re probably just stressed. You should take a break! Just relax for a few hours . . . days . . . you know, whatever you need.”

Ford sighed. “What I  _ need _ is to get this thing working before your--before Dipper and Mabel’s parents get here. And before you get arrested; don’t expect me to sneak this transporter in and un-squish you if you end up in jail!”

“Really? Wow, that would . . . totally suck. Yep. Not thinking about that at all,” Mabley said. Dipper eyed them suspiciously. Ford didn’t seem to notice.

“Yes, it would.” Ford replied sharply. “So you’ll be better off if you stay inside the Shack and stop causing trouble! ...I’m going back downstairs. Maybe I left it with my shoes again.”

“But...well, okay.” Mabley sighed. “See ya, I guess. . . .” They turned to Dipper. “Guess it’s just you and me again. . .so, ping pong? Or should we see if we can finally get that goat to reveal its secrets?”

“Actually. . .I think I’m gonna go see if I can help Grunkle Ford find his Quantum thing.” Dipper said. “No offense, Mabley, but I’ll feel a lot better when you’re both back to normal.”

“Oh.” Mabley said. They folded their arms and laughed weakly. “Well, sure. I mean. Not like I can’t keep myself company. I’m the best company there is! Who...uh, what else could I possibly need?”

Dipper shut his journal and headed towards the vending machine in the gift shop. As he left, he took a last look back at Mabley, who had picked up the scrapbook again and was hugging it to their chest.

*

The night air was cool on Ford’s face, the slight breeze welcome after the stifling stillness of the basement. He listened to the chirping of crickets and moss fairies and tried to concentrate on his breathing. He just needed to calm down, and then he’d be able to get the darn thing working. Calm down, and make some more coffee, and not give up. He was probably just making everything more difficult for himself by getting so frustrated.

It just had been so simple to set up in the first place! Well . . . comparatively. He couldn’t understand why something that only involved four and a half dimensions of phase-space was giving him so much trouble!

The wind changed, and he heard, carried on it, the faint sound of singing. “Doodly doo, hiding the evidence, dee dee dee.”

Ford sunk his head into his hands. By the Shrine of the Unswerving Oracle, what were they up to  _ this _ time? He should have known better than to leave them without Dipper’s supervision.

Keeping his movements slow and stealthy, he crept closer.

“Doodly dee, sabotaging the transporter, can’t let Ford know ‘cause then he’d be really aaaaaangry!”

“Yes,” said Ford, stepping into the clearing where Mabley was busy trying to bury his Quantum Spatial Inhibitor. They looked up guiltily at the sound of his voice. 

“He would.”

*

“--Not to mention, you have no idea how dangerous some of these components are! Do you  _ want _ your entire being to end up compressed to a single point in space? Because that’s certainly how you were acting!”

Ford finished his rant and glared across the table, breathing heavily. Mabley was frowning and kicking at the legs of their chair, not meeting Ford’s eyes. He had all but dragged Mabley in after finding out what they’d been doing. Dipper had been shocked when he’d found out. And a little confused. He’d sensed that Mabley hadn’t really been eager to un-squish, but this...this was still a surprise.

“Yeah, man,” said Dipper. “Why won’t you let us help you?”

Mabley pulled their chin into the neck of their sweater and hunched thier shoulders up.

“Well?” snapped Ford. He tapped his pen on the table as he waited for them to answer.

Mabley muttered something inaudible.

“What was that?”

“I said I don’t need any help!”

“Oh, of course. Obviously.” Ford glared. “Obviously you’re better off as an abomination of science--”

“Maybe I am!” they growled.

“Don’t be ridiculous . . . You know that you can’t stay like this, so why are you being so obstinate?!”

“Because!” Mabley shouted, slamming their hands down on the table. “I don’t want Stan to be sad again!”

Ford, who had already opened his mouth for a retort, closed it. The silence in the kitchen was deafening. Mabley curled forward in their seat, wrapping their arms around themself.

“Mabel loves Stan. And Stan loves Mabel.” They said. “And Mabel loves  _ herself. _ But Stan . . . doesn’t love himself. And it hurts him, more than he realizes.”

“Oh no . . .” Dipper said softly, realization creeping over him.

“I  _ love _ being me. I really, really do. And I still hear some of the things Stan tells himself sometimes, but they’re drowned out by how he and Mabel feel about each other. By how much faith Mabel has, both in herself and in him. The bad thoughts can’t compete. They’re smothered. They’re nothing against me.

“But if we go back…” Mabley looked imploringly up at Ford. “Stan might start listening to them again.”

Ford looked dumbstruck. All the anger in him seemed to have drained out. It made sense in a way. . .Mabley might have gotten Stan’s dishonesty and Mabel’s stubbornness, but they probably wouldn’t have done something like this to Ford or Dipper. Not unless they were protecting each other...protecting themself.

“If we un-squish, Stan might go back to being sad . . . and Mabel will be sad because  _ he’s _ sad. And I don’t want that! I don’t want them to be hurt, because I love them!” Tears welled up in their eyes. “I love them both so much . . .”

“Mabley . . .” Ford sighed heavily. “I didn’t realize.”

Dipper climbed up on the chair beside them and reached for their hand. They turned, startled, in his direction.

“. . . I get it,” he said. “I mean . . . I don’t want Stan or Mabel to be sad either. But if you don’t go back . . . I won’t ever get to see them again. Either of them. And I don’t want that either.”

Mabley sniffed, a big, powerful sniff, and wiped their eyes on the sleeve of their jacket.

“I’m glad I had the chance to meet you. I really am. But I want my sister back. I don’t want to start high school without her. I want her to be there when the other kids are being jerks so she can say something funny to cheer me up or throw one of her pocket cupcakes at them. I want her to be there on the other side of the room when I can’t sleep at night or I wake up from a nightmare. I want to play ceiling tile bingo with her and tell jokes that no one else gets. I want to see Mabel again. I don’t want to grow up without her.”

Dipper smiled up at Mabley, looking imploringly into their eyes. Ford took the moment of silence as a chance to step forward and put a hand on their shoulder, and they turned.

“. . .I want my brother back too,” he said softly. “I feel like we’ve only just started getting to know each other again. There’s so much time to make up for . . . I would hate to miss any of it.” He smiled. “I want him back the way he is. All of him. Even the parts that hurt. Even the things I wish he wasn’t burdened with. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned in this past year, it’s that having someone to share your burdens with makes them lighter. I want to help Stan with his burdens . . . and . . . let him help me with mine. I know that you love Stan and Mabel, but we love them too. Please . . . give them back to us.”

Mabley’s lip trembled and they grabbed Ford, pulling him into another one of their bone-crushing hugs. Dipper yelped as they scooped him up in their other arm and squeezed him tightly. He didn’t mind this time. And Ford didn’t seem to either. They both just hugged Mabley back and let them pretend that they weren’t crying into Ford’s sweater. Dipper figured there was probably enough Stan in them that they’d try to come up with some excuse if he mentioned it.

After a while they gave Ford and Dipper one final squeeze and then sat up, wiping their eyes. “Well,” they said, “I guess you two dorks need looking after too. It’s not really fair to keep all this awesome in one place when I could split it up and get to hang out with both of you. Plus, it’s just cheating for Mabel to be  _ this _ much taller than Dipper.”

Dipper laughed. “Yeah, no fair! This is even worse than the size-changing crystals; you’re tall  _ and _ you have muscles!”

“Pfft.” Mabley flipped up the brim of his hat and ruffled his hair. “Mabel could always one-up those noodle arms of yours.”

Ford looked at the two of them and smiled sadly. “Mabley, were there any other components you took?”

They glanced up at him, startled. “No. You fixed all the other things already. You’re . . . pretty good at all this nerd stuff.”

Ford chuckled. “High praise, indeed. I should go get the transporter fixed. Properly this time. It should take me a few hours, so if you have any shenanigans you’ve been putting off, now’s the time!”

“Grunkle Ford--”Dipper began, but Ford had already stood up and headed towards the basement.

“All right. Yeah.” Mabley stood up and sighed wistfully. “Maybe I’ll go steal another ice cream truck or something. One last hurrah, right?”

“. . .Wait!” Dipper called as they headed to the door. They stopped and turned back towards him. “Do you, uh, want an accomplice?” he smiled.

Mabley looked surprised for a moment, then a huge grin spread over their face.

“Are you kidding? Heck yeah!” They motioned excitedly for Dipper to follow them as they headed towards the door. “I gotta have my favorite brother-slash-nephew along with me! Okay. Now I know I said ice cream truck, but hear me out: helicopter.”

“I’m listening.” Dipper said. 

“That’s the whole plan so far, but I’m sure we can figure out the details on the way. . . .”

*

A few hours later, the two of them were back in the Shack--extremely windswept and slightly bruised, but none the worse for wear. 

“Are you ready?” Ford asked, the repaired control panel in his hand. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Mabley said, shifting from one foot to another. “So I just . . . step forward and it’ll unsquish me?”

Ford nodded. “That’s the plan. There’s a fifteen percent chance that--no, no, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well,” said Mabley. “That’s . . . super reassuring.”

Dipper stepped forward and squeezed their hand. “You’ll be fine,” he said. “And if anything does go wrong, you’ve got your two favorite nerds here to fix it!”

Mabley smiled at him. They pushed the nervousness down, letting the affection they felt for the boy bloom in their chest. The whole un-squishing process was pretty scary, and not just because of the fly-monster possibilities. But if Mabley had learned one thing in their few days of existence, it was that everything got a lot less scary when you had someone you loved beside you.

“Yeah,” they said. “Yeah, I do. But before I go--”

“Please no more karaoke . . .” said Dipper.

“No. Just one more hug. You know I’m the best at ‘em!”

They swept Ford and Dipper up into their arms and squeezed. It wasn’t the tightest hug they’d given; just snug enough to make sure that the other two could hug them back. They felt Dipper’s small arms and Ford’s big ones wrap around them and stayed that way for a moment, warm and safe and loved, as they took in a few deep breaths.

The idea of getting un-squished . . . wasn’t at all like dying, Mabley knew. Everything that made them up would still exist in Mabel and Stan and their love for each other, but it wouldn’t be like this. They wouldn’t be able to take their family up in their arms together, wouldn’t be able to  _ feel _ the love that they all shared the way they did now.

But it would still be worth it. Ford and Dipper needed their twins back.

They tightened the hug enough to lift the two of them off the ground, just for a few seconds, and then set them down and backed away.

“I love you nerds, okay?” they said. “And so does Mabel and so does Stan, even if he won’t always say it.”

“We know,” replied Ford and Dipper, speaking at almost exactly the same time.

Mabley laughed, stepped forward, and waited for Ford to give the signal. Ford picked up the discarded control panel, fiddled with the dials for a moment, then looked at them and nodded.

Mabley looked down at the line on the ground, freezing for a moment. They’d already made their decision, they knew this was the best thing. Why couldn’t they get their legs to move? They bit their lip and took a couple steps backwards. Then, just as they thought they might back out, they felt something deep in them spurring them on. They closed their eyes and ran forward across the line of tape.

*

Mabel tripped over her own feet as she landed and tumbled forward, bracing herself for the impact. But before she could hit the floor she felt a pair of strong hands catch her around the waist and sweep her up into the air.

“Watch it, pumpkin,” said Grunkle Stan. “You’ve gotta be careful sneaking up on people like that.”

Mabel wriggled around in his arms until she was facing him. Behind him, she could see Ford and Dipper looking relieved. Like, really really relieved. Good thing that mystery fifteen percent chance of becoming what would probably turn out to be a much less fun abomination of science hadn’t panned out.

Ford took a step towards them, but Dipper held out a hand to stop him. Mabel was glad. She really wanted to hug them and tell them how great it was to be back and prove that she still had deceptively strong hug muscles, but that needed to wait. She had something really super duper important that she had to do first.

She took Grunkle Stan’s face in her hands. It was soft and scratchy at the same time.

“Listen,” she said. “I need you to remember, okay? Remember what it felt like, because I love you that much  _ all the time _ . Every second, even when you’re sad or grumpy or doing something illegal. And from what I could hear of your bad thoughts . . . I think they’ll try to lie to you. They’ll say that because you can’t feel it like we did when we were Mabley that it wasn’t real, or, or that I’ll change my mind or something. And if they try to tell you that, I need you to imagine Mabley in your head so they can laugh at how wrong those thoughts are and then punch them away with the power of love! You got that?”

Grunkle Stan laughed and squeezed her tight. His arms were strong but he didn’t hug as exuberantly as she did. She could feel the difference, so she made sure that when she hugged him back she was extra-exuberant about it.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, sweetie. I got it.”

As Dipper and Ford moved in and it turned into one of those big family hugs where inevitably everyone ends up on the floor, Mabel was ninety-nine percent sure she heard Stan whisper, “I love you too,” in her ear.

“I know that, silly-face!” she said.

As she’d predicted, Stan overbalanced and they all toppled over, but Ford had turned off all his science so nobody got squished this time except in the more traditional sense. Mabel giggled as Dipper gave her the biggest hug he could and then made a sad little “oof!” noise as she hugged him back. Deceptively strong hug muscles? Check!

“Missed you!” Dipper gasped when he could talk again.

“Missed you too, bro-bro!” said Mabel, mussing up her brother’s hair. “It’s good to be back. Now, who’s up for some Quadruple Sugar Cookies and dancing!?”

The other three all groaned, but Grunkle Stan winked at her. Mabel knew she’d be able to convince him to take her out dancing when they were back next summer now that he knew that she knew how happy it made him.

“No more dancing, please!” said Dipper. “And we’re having something with protein tonight. Do you have any idea how much sugar I’ve eaten in the last few days?”

“What about sugar  _ and _ protein?”

“That sounds terrifying.”

“I thought you liked danger!”

Dipper laughed again and flipped her hair into her face.

“Okay, okay,” said Grunkle Stan. “Enough blabbering. I’ll cook something; gotta admit I’m kind of sugared out for a while.”

Everyone disentangled themselves and stood up. Mabel gave Grunkle Stan’s hand an extra squeeze before she let go. She made it a few steps towards the door before she paused.

“Wow,” she said. “Have I always been this short?”

“Get used to it, ya little gremlin,” said Stan, but he let her ride on his shoulders while he was cooking anyway. No one let her make cookies, but they did go out for ice cream after dinner. The ice cream truck driver looked at the group suspiciously, but Mabel just flashed him her biggest, most innocent smile. After he drove away she and Grunkle Stan looked at each other and burst out laughing, and then Grunkle Ford decided to get revenge for the ice cream sandwich incident, and by the time they got back everyone was exhausted and happy and covered in melted popsicles. 

*

“See you next summer!” Dipper called from the back of his parents’ car.

“Take care!” Ford called back, “Good luck with your studies!”

Mabel rolled down the window of the car and poked her head out, her waist-length hair billowing back over her face as she waved. 

“We love you!” she shouted into the wind.

Stan swallowed hard and cupped his hands around his mouth, shouting back as loudly as he could. 

“Don’t let anyone give you any crap back in Piedmont!” he yelled. “And call us if you need an alibi!”

“We will!” she called. “And remember what I said!”

Any further words she might have shouted back at the two of them were cut off by the wind and the widening distance as the car made its way down the road. Stan waved as hard as he could for as long as the car was visible. It was all he could do not to run after it. 

Seeing the kids off hadn’t been quite as hard this time as it had been last year. It was easier to believe he really would see them again, having been through it all once. But still, it hurt. Still, it felt as though something deep in his chest was being pulled at as the car drove away, stretched thinner and pulled tighter the farther it got until it snapped painfully, leaving an ache behind.

He nearly jumped at the now familiar weight of a six fingered hand on his shoulder. He turned to Ford and smiled, hoping he wouldn’t notice him subtly wiping at his eyes.

“We’ll see them again. And there will be letters and calls in the meantime.”

“Eh. I’m just glad they took the pig with them. Damn butterball’s already chewed up half my shoes. There’ll actually be some elbow room in the Shack without the three of them running around.”

Ford chuckled softly, shaking his head. “If you say so. . . .I suppose the teleporter project will have to be set aside for a time, at least until I can work out more of the problems.”

“Pfft.” Stan snorted, still trying to shake off the feelings left behind from the goodbye. “Imagine if it had been you and Dipper squished together. You’d have been the ultimate nerd!”

“I’m sure it would have been an enlightening experience, one I’m perfectly happy never knowing firsthand,” Ford said. “...Er...How are you doing, anyway? After an experience like that….”

“I’m fine, Sixer. Don’t worry about it.”

“It’s just...there are some things Mabley said about you. . . “

“Haven’t you learned not to listen to what abominations of science tell you by now, Ford?” Stan said, shoving him affectionately away. “Yeesh, you’re lucky I’m here to put some sense into you.”

“All right, all right. I’ll drop it.” Ford shoved him back, smiling. “But at least let me know if you feel any different after this. After all, you’ve just been through a unique experience. . .we ought to keep an eye out, in case there are any side effects of you sharing a consciousness with Mabel for so long.”

“Ah, you’re paranoid.” Stan smiled, reaching covertly for something in his pocket. “It all worked out in the end, right?”

“Thankfully yes, but…”

“So relax for once. Look, I’m the one who went through all that and I can tell you with one-hundred percent certainty, there are absolutely  _ no _ side effects.”

Stan pulled out the sticker he’d been hiding in his pocket--a googly-eyed grinning sun--and pressed it onto Ford’s nose.

“Boop,” he said, and went back inside the Shack.


End file.
